:: in.a.mirror.dimly ::

There are four kinds of sermons or Bible studies I have heard over the years. Only two have the potential to do us much good, and only one is fully grounded in reality. Here’s a thumbnail sketch of each kind.

Sermon A

Here is truth.

Sermon B

Here is truth, go do something.

Sermon C

Here is truth, let God do something through you.

Sermon D

Here is truth, let God do something through you, or else.

What Should We Do with Truth?

As you can tell, I belong to an evangelical tradition that prizes truth and sound doctrine. Though we may squabble amongst ourselves over some of the details, we all value what God has to teach us. We read scripture, we pray, and we, hopefully, listen for the Holy Spirit’s leading.

However, sermon A simply aims to give us information. Certain traditions lean more toward this because they believe so strongly that God alone saves us. They’d say our goal is to change our minds and our actions will follow, and therefore new information is sufficient.

The preacher of Sermon B realizes that God’s desire is to change us into his kind of people, but it doesn’t point people to the Holy Spirit’s power in their lives. It skips to the results and forgets the process that brings them about.

That’s where Sermon C comes in. Jesus said to abide in him and we will bear much fruit. Sermon C tells us truth and connects us with God’s power for love, joy, and good works.

Our lives should change. Obedience is very important, but it’s not up to us to make it happen. The “work” we do as branches is abiding in Jesus, our vine. If we want to get results, we don’t focus on producing the results. We focus on the vine.

However, if we stop here, we have missed something key in passages such as John 15.

The Consequences of Disobedience

God’s love and grace is inexhaustible and given to us freely. God forgives and saves anyone who turns away from sin and calls out. However, the goal of saving us is to give us his love and joy, manifesting his coming Kingdom to others and sharing his love.

Obedience is essential. If we run off to do our own thing, there are consequences. At the start of John 15, Jesus mentions the “non-fruitful” branches being cut off—twice.

I’ve grown up in hell-fire fundamentalism. I’m turned off by preaching with threats or dramatic imploring to be saved from the fires of hell or whatever they call it these days.

I don’t like the idea of telling someone, “Resist God long enough and you’ll be cut off the vine! Don’t get mad at me. It’s in the Bible”

But then the words of Jesus are very tricky to preach. He doesn’t give us a chart or a formula for disobedience that tells us when someone will be cut off. He just says it could happen. God’s love is here for us to enjoy, but it can be resisted, ignored, and ultimately lost.

If not for the trauma of my fundamentalist past, I could accept that without too much fuss. This is far from the angry, vengeful God who is crouched behind a corner waiting for me to slip up. This is God the ignored lover who will let us go our own ways if we so choose.

A branch that refuses to be part of the vine will wither plenty on its own. The act of cutting it off is only a final formality. It’s not like God is chopping off partially healthy branches that simply need to be rehabilitated.

As we consider the love of God for us, I pray that we can see God’s generous, unearned, and inexhaustible grace for what it is. I pray that we can abide in the love that Jesus has for us and that our lives will bloom with the fruit of his love and goodness. And lastly, I pray that we’ll remember that there are consequences for persistent disobedience and resistance to this love.

May we be drawn to God by his love and arrive at a place where we can’t imagine another day without it.

John the Baptist had some dirty work to do. I’m not talking about munching on locusts or roaming around the desert. I’m talking about challenging people to bring their sins out before God, confess their sins, and prepare themselves to enter God’s Kingdom.

This was not flashy ministry. He didn’t perform any miracles or signs that we know of. He simply pointed people back to God, and the only way to God involved repentance. He challenged people to face their issues.

There is no short cut to revival.

Any serious steps forward into the holiness and joy of God must first trudge through our junk, our dark areas that we’d rather forget. If we want to go anywhere with God, our dirty baggage needs to be tossed. Otherwise it will hold us back.

As I look back at my own life, I’ve seen this principle time and time again. In fact, there are times when I’ve opened myself up to the Holy Spirit’s leading and suddenly discovered some bitterness or anger I’d been hiding just below the surface.

It’s not pleasant to have my personal delusions challenged.

And yet, growing into the freedom and power of God’s Kingdom demands an ongoing housecleaning. Oftentimes I also find that once I stop clearing things out, I begin adding more junk.

Living in God’s Kingdom is a constant work of faith that is demanding, but promises rewards that we have yet to fathom.

I like it when God offers me an easy choice.

The big decisions regarding our move to Columbus were easy. That is, once we looked at the facts honestly. Ohio State clearly was the best place for my wife Julie to pursue her PhD. We were walking one day back in Connecticut discussing our choices, and I remember when we hit the point where we realized it wasn’t worth being uncertain any longer.

We knew where we needed to go because so many details had lined up in answer to our prayers.

When it was time to look for an apartment we didn’t need a rainbow pouring down from heaven on the right place for us—though that would have pretty awesome.

We found one place and one place only. That place also happened to provide what we’d been praying about.

The big decisions have been easy.

The details rarely are.

But then the details are where we do the heavy lifting of faith and grow. On our first night here I was laying in bed, stiff and exhausted after a full day of driving. Our rabbits were bouncing around in their play pen next to our bed, getting used to the new place and trying to decide whether they’d like to try killing each other or not (see rabbit bonding).

It was hotter than hot. Our air conditioner didn’t seem to be working.

I began to pray. I don’t know what was going through my mind until this phrase came to me, “Trust the process.”

It was a moment of undeserved grace that God poured on me. We had a couple of long, hard days after that night—moving is always a trial—and those words sustained me.

God has a process for us that may well be demanding, painful, and upsetting. And yet, the thing about God is that he’s actually in that process.

I don’t think it’s helpful to speak about God causing pain because he’s actually with us in the midst of hard times, grieving when our hearts break and shaking his head when the smoke detector goes off at 3 AM for no apparent reason. I don’t know how cause and effect works in relation to God, but somehow God is both all powerful and intimately connected to us in the ups and downs of our lives.

I transplanted some perennial flowers from my in-laws to our new place, and I can really relate to them right now.

I’ve been hacked out of what’s familiar and shoved into a place that is totally different. I’m slowly adjusting and sticking my roots in, but I still feel out of place, off-balance, and overwhelmed. I fear that I may wither in this new place.

And yet, transplanting is a process that works. In fact, some perennials need to be broken up and transplanted in order to thrive—or so I’ve been told.

I have to trust that those flowers will take root and bloom next spring. Transplanting is a process that works. By faith, I trust that the same will be true for us.

When we moved to Connecticut, I had an identity crisis. People asked me what I did, and I told them I was a writer.

But I felt like a liar.

I mean, I wrote. I wrote quite a bit. I worked on book proposals, queries for magazines, and even a few paid projects. I blogged every day.

However, I wasn’t making too much money during that first year. Could I claim to be a professional, full time writer if I wasn’t making much money from it as a serious career? There were people with day jobs who made more money writing. There were kids at Starbucks serving my daily cup tea who made more money than me.

I’m not sharing all of this to get group therapy on my blog. That season has passed and life is just ducky now. I wouldn’t bring all of this junk up if I was still in the middle of it—in that case I’d just complain a lot.

Writers are good at complaining because we choose our words and metaphors so carefully.

Here’s the thing about identity, if you don’t have something you can nail down with certainty, you feel a bit lost, fearful, and insecure. That first year in Connecticut tested me in so many different ways. However, the biggest struggle was in the matter of identity.

I had to nail down who I was whether or not it made any money. I needed to struggle and fight for it. I couldn’t let other people or my fears of their perceptions define me. But, I mean, you think I’m a writer… don’t you??? Please? Oh, right.

At the same time I hammered out my identity as a writer, I also had to sort out my identity as a follower of Jesus. I felt abandoned for that year with moments of provision. However, after a time of provision, I felt like I’d hit a dead end. I had to ask hard questions.

Does God give a rip about me?

Is God really leading me?

Am I his beloved child?

When Satan’s minions attack, one of their best weapons is to challenge one’s identity and position in God.

When we doubt that we are God’s chosen, beloved children, we can cut ourselves off from God with feelings of unworthiness and guilt. Our prayers become twisted and meandering as we underestimate the power and finality of the death and resurrection of Jesus.

Satan’s main attack against Jesus in the Gospel of Luke consisted of three questions, and two of them revolved around his identity. “If you are the Son of God…” He wanted Jesus to say, “I’m the Son of God, I’ll prove it…”

The devilish bit of Satan’s attack was that the very act of Jesus proving his identity to someone else would have indicated doubt. If he felt the burden to prove his identity, he was acknowledging that it had to be demonstrated in order to be true. Only an external sign could validate his position.

Jesus hit back with scripture and refused to play Satan’s games. Jesus abided. He rested in his identity. He didn’t have to prove one thing.

We don’t have to test God or play identity games. “If you really love me God, you’ll do this…” or “If I’m your child, I’ll experience you in this exact way…”

It can be unsettling and disturbing to lose sight of your identity in Christ.

If you aren’t God’s beloved child, then the only direction to go is down. Any other identity marker will be unsatisfying and push us toward insecurity.

I pray that you can rest today in God’s love for you and ignore the temptations to prove it. May you experience God’s love and hear his voice today as you seek what he has called you to do.

When I say that Mary was a spiritual mother to me, I fear that I may call up an incomplete image of who she was to me and to so many others. Mary cared for many of us like a mother, but she was also a spiritual dynamo who played every bit the role of a pastor.

She was the first woman that I knew who led with tremendous spiritual authority. She certainly wasn’t the last. Mary’s leadership, pastoring, whatever you want to call it, began with lunch.

Sitting down for a meal with a group of people creates opportunities for tremendous conversations and even transformations. I think Jesus intended his followers to keep gathering around an actual meal when remembering his death and resurrection—there’s something more life-giving when we face one another and actually interact.

I don’t know when Mary started this, but since she had several sons attending my college, Taylor University, she hosted a huge lunch once a month on Sunday afternoons. She led the college Sunday school class, and we were her flock that she cared for like a mother and like a pastor—which when you think about it, have a lot in common.

She prayed with and for us.

She fed us with pot roasts and vulnerable teachings from scripture.

She sat in the presence of Jesus while alone and then showed us the way to him when we gathered together.

When I try to sit in the presence of the Lord each day, I’m often reminded of Mary. She modeled it for us. We followed. That is the kind of spiritual authority that the audience of Jesus saw in him.

That spiritual authority was also the thing that the Pharisees didn’t understand.

You’d think that everyone in our church could see the love of Mary and her care for us as a good thing. But no, certain men couldn’t see through a couple of Bible verses. They clung to a few scripture verses about the role of women in the church and missed everything else that the Bible says about women who prophesy, who are apostles, who speak as God’s representatives, and who guide entire nations.

They chose to focus on a few words on a page and missed the life-giving power of God at work in Mary that lined up with everything else in the scriptures. They put pressure on her, and sometimes even killed the freedom of the Spirit in our Sunday school class.

These men who claimed they were standing on the Bible showed none of the love that Mary modeled from the Bible. They did not exhibit the fruits of patience and self-control. They didn’t welcome us into their homes. They never offered to pray for us.

Whatever they tried to assert by the authority they claimed, the power of Jesus in the life of Mary trumped them. She became the lowly servant before Jesus, and God exalted her through her weakness.

Mary did so many small things that built up into a kind of tidal wave that swept into my life and left me forever changed.

She prayed each morning.

She read scripture.

She shared from her heart.

She prayed with us.

These were all small things that took discipline and commitment. She didn’t see immediate fruit sometimes, but her faithfulness changed many lives.

Before any of those changes could take place, we needed to know that we were welcome and more importantly, that we were loved. All of the spiritual impact of Mary did not begin in a Sunday school class with us, though it would help.

Mary’s spiritual power began over lunch—serving us and sharing her life with us.

May we find God in the small things today and faithfully remain in him so that we can courageously serve others with his authority and power.

Read more stories about the importance of small acts at Faith Barista today: The Penny Man by Guest Blogger Billy Coffey

Right now there are many churches where only half of their members are recognized as leaders who can actively participate in the guidance and teaching of the church. Even in the churches who like the idea of this segment becoming involved, it’s hard to actually make it happen.

Who knows what we’re missing because we keep half of our congregations on the fringes, allowing them to mingle in a few areas without really paying much attention to them. We blame them for some of the problems we ourselves have caused and then act like they do nothing but whine when they point out the junk we dump on them.

I’m talking about women.

Even in churches that are progressive, I still see a lot of men standing up front. A few things get tweaked but we still hear something like this from a guy up front:

Be missional, buy into the vision of my church and it will be awesome….

Be inclusive and accepting, buy into the vision of my church and it will be awesome…

An then there’s the men leading the old guard:

Be seeker sensitive, buy into the vision of my church and it will be awesome…

Be more committed to the truth, buy into the vision of my church and it will be awesome…

As much as I applaud the conferences that have worked to put together a greater diversity of voices, our leadership in the church today is still lacking because women are only taken seriously when leading children, teaching natives in the jungle, or speaking to other women.

We still haven’t sought the guidance of female leaders as if the integrity of our witness and the reflection of God’s character depended on it.

Legit Female Leadership

A bunch of my friends in the Twittersphere were at Willow Creek’s Leadership Summit last week. Their Twitter feeds lit up with awe and wonder at a speaker from Egypt named Mamma Maggie Gobran (this has links to her profile and tweets from her session).

Mama Maggie soon trended on Twitter because everyone recognized the power and authority of her message. While I didn’t get to see her talk, I did track down some notes.

And here’s my deal. I know that you can learn lots of good stuff from business leaders. I know that men have lots of wisdom to share. I know that there are all kinds of different churches with different leadership styles.

However, in a room full of years of business expertise, church growth chops, and pastoral perseverance, a woman serving among the poor stole the show. That begs the question:

What else are we missing?

If one woman can show up that many dudes, maybe it’s time start asking ourselves, How can we encourage other women to follow God’s calling to lead?

I have sat under the leadership of women in church meetings, during Sunday sermons, and in small groups. God recognizes their authority and uses them to lead. I’ve seen powerful ministry accomplished by women.

It’s true that a woman could just as well fall into the same trap as a man, or perhaps a different kind of trap altogether. Women are not the magic bullet that will fix the church. It’s just that we’re pretty comfy with the flaws of male leaders, but since we aren’t used to the flaws of female leaders, we may somehow think that these are worse.

If God can use women like Deborah and Huldah to lead his people, then we shouldn’t be surprised that Momma Maggie rocked it at the Leadership Summit.

Women and men share the same calling to lead.

What Can We Do?

It is incredibly clear to me that I am a writer and not a church leader. I can’t train anyone to lead because I wouldn’t know what to tell that person to do. I’d say something like, “Sit at a desk and start using words like vision and critical mission.”

However, I can tell stories and start conversations. I can affirm the truth that women have an important role in the church.

Do you know of a woman who has effectively led others? Do you have a calling from God to lead a ministry?

Please share your story below because there may be a young woman who is called to lead and needs to read your story. Let’s keep this conversation going. If we don’t encourage the church to embrace the diversity that God intends, who will?

One last thing, if you’re going to start throwing Bible verses at me about women NOT leading, please check out the other posts on this blog where I have that debate. This is a post about encouragement. If you want to debate my points here, check out this post.

My wife and her family completely blew my mind for my birthday. They bought me the new e-ink Nook.

I know, crazy, right?

The only downside was that I had to let it charge for 3 hours before I could read anything on it.

This morning I woke up and it felt a bit like Christmas. I registered it before I poured myself coffee, which should tell you where the Nook ranked in my priorities. Before I poured my second cup, I had downloaded the New Living Translation Bible, my favorite Bible for general reading and devotions.

I’ve been reading through Matthew, but I was still figuring out the page-turning buttons—as in, I just sort of tapped at the screen until something happened—so I just read something after I tired of experimenting. Who reads instructions anyway?

The passage I landed on was the one with Jesus and rich young man who was told to sell everything he has, give it to the poor, and then follow Jesus. I thought that was a pretty ironic passage to read on my brand spanking new E-book reader.

God’s Call, Sacrifices, and “Possessions”

I’ve actually been thinking through that passage quite a bit over the past few weeks because I’ve been both a child of privilege thanks to my hard-working family and a relatively poor graduate student thanks to God’s calling in my life. 2010 was one of those years I’d rather forget, except that it was chock full of lessons and blessings that set the course I’m on today. In 2011 many things have started to come together as I pursue writing full time.

Oddly enough, I see my Nook as a small part of that path, God’s calling in my life.

My wife watched me research e-readers from the moment they hit the market because I wanted to understand their impact on the book industry. I needed to understand what it’s like to read on a book on one of those new fangled devices if my calling really is to be an author.

Embracing that calling has meant sacrifices in many areas. I think I can squeeze into the Kingdom with a Nook in my saddle bag. I mean, have you seen how thin that thing is?

But this all does bring up issues about money and possessions, and particularly how they tie into our callings. I don’t think Jesus demands that we all become dirt poor in order to follow him. You have to eat. You need shelter. I know missionaries who travel the world practically like vagabonds toting MacBook Pros that they regularly use to create all kinds of things for their ministry.

The Bible doesn’t intend to give us a precise blueprint for every aspect of our lives. I don’t see the story of the rich young man as a command to rid ourselves of everything, but rather as a dire warning about making sure our possessions don’t prevent us from following Jesus.

Have We Surrendered All Objects to Jesus?

As I clung to my Nook this morning and read the words of Jesus, I prayed a simple prayer of surrender. Even that silly little Nook is a tool that God can use. If we’re willing to open ourselves up to his Spirit’s probing, God can reveal the sin in our lives that keeps us from him and prevent us from clinging to our plans, desires, and even objects—be they digital or not.

I think the reason why I read that passage this morning was to remind me that possessions aren’t important. They’re really just things that bought with money. They’re not special or significant on their own. Even calling these objects “possessions” can be problematic.  However, when we are yielded to God’s plans for our lives, he can use these items for his purpose.

It’s my hope and prayer that everything I own becomes a tool in God’s plans for my life. I don’t want my possessions to become status symbols or idols that consume my time that should otherwise be spent pursuing God’s Kingdom.

Ironically, the minimalist reading experience of the Nook emphasizes the words on the page to the point that you forget you have an electronic device in front of you. There is spiritual wisdom in that design.

I was praying this morning, and I had a strong sense to pray for a few people. While praying, I could see that God was preparing them to do something but they didn’t see what it was yet.

That is a tough place to be.

Living in a place of preparation and uncertainty can be stressful, draining, and unfulfilling. You’re always waiting for the next thing. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do each day because you feel like you were made to do something else.

This morning I sensed that God really does have things to teach us and to develop in us at the times when we feel stuck or in between or simply uncertain. He gives us opportunities to grow, and we’ll simply never know how he may use something to shape us.

I’ve learned a lot about that with my writing lately. Things have not followed the path that I’d chosen for myself and planned out, but at the same time, I have what I need and God continues to teach me things I never expected to learn.

I suppose this is part of what faith looks like: we take steps forward each day into the uncertainties of life, trusting that we can hear God today and move forward, trusting him with the results.

At the end of the day, if we can give God the glory for where he has led us, we may also find that we’ve ended up right where we belong.

For more posts on faith, visit Bonnie Gray’s blog post today: Facing What You Fear to Lead a Significant Life.

If you happen to know someone from New Jersey or perhaps you’re from New Jersey, you may be lucky enough to know about sarcasm. Yesterday I watched a brief interview of a columnist that I used to follow on Twitter that sent my sarcasm meter spiking to dangerous levels of snark.

It was definitely a “time out” moment where I wished I lived somewhere with some steps I could sit on to pout and kick my feet.

The topic of the interview isn’t too important for my purposes here, but I’ll give you a taste of it for some context. The slant of the “news” show was the assault of the food police on the school lunches of our poor children. This time chicken nuggets are the target, and this columnist actually said something like, “My kids are going to say, ‘Eww gross, we don’t want to eat vegetables, we like chicken nuggets.’”

I’m a big fan of local food and vegetables who ate his fair share of chicken nuggets, and believe me, kids who are influenced by food industry marketing should not be allowed to tell us that heavily processed chicken bits are a better lunch than naturally growing vegetables. And even if her kids don’t like cheese tortellini with spinach, that’s no excuse for opposing a healthy menu.

I mean, is childhood obesity something that Michelle Obama made up so that the government can control dinner time?

OK, so there’s the sarcasm kicking in. I’m really passionate about food. I’ve watched how cutting back on meat (without eliminating it) has changed the way my body responds to certain foods. I used to eat steak regularly, but now I usually get ill after eating too much of it, while vegetables make me feel great.

However, this post isn’t about steak or vegetables or even those devilishly tasty chicken nuggets. This post is about what we do when we encounter someone who challenges our beliefs online and leaves us feeling angry and possibly threatened.

Read the rest of this entry »

I used to work for someone who usually ended the week saying, “Thanks for all you do.”

That used to drive me crazy. What was he thanking me for? Eating my lunch? Getting a project done on time? Checking my personal e-mail while on the job?

I know this wasn’t what he meant, but I interpreted his encouragement catch-all as: “You’re not important enough for me to take the time to find out what you do well.”

Some weeks I wondered if it would have been better if he’d said nothing at all.

Sometimes the wrong kind of encouragement leaves us worse off than we were before.

In order for encouragement to actually work, it needs to be specific.

Be Specific or Else…

I think about this a lot since I volunteer and have managed volunteers for years. A big part of appreciating volunteers and ensuring they continue to help out is to give them specific encouragement. Specific encouragement is the fuel that keeps us going.

Encouragement that affirms something a particular will empower others to keep going. It’s so critical for volunteers and for ministers that I don’t think anyone can continue to serve effectively for a long period of time without it.

I would go so far as saying that encouragement is one of the ways God’s Spirit guides us in our service—it’s an outside validation that we have heard from God correctly.

Without mentioning something specific, our words fall flat and may even communicate that we don’t care.

Critique without Encouragement

I actually have a rule I try to follow, especially in church. I don’t let myself critique anyone unless I have encouraged that person first.

This is a worthwhile goal because many volunteers and ministers don’t hear feedback from people until something bad happens. Back in my worship leading days I’d guess that at least 80% of the feedback was negative—usually critiques of my song choices.

Critique without encouragement tells others that they are probably doing something terribly wrong. Even if someone is serving in the wrong position, look for what that person does well, affirm that, and perhaps suggest that he/she may be more effective somewhere else.

Critique alone could just leave a person feeling lost.

A Practical Step Toward Encouragement

If I could make one last suggestion for a practical way forward, I’ll be teaching a course on equipping volunteers for ministry at Biblical Theological Seminary outside of Philadelphia on August 12-13.

We’ll cover a broad range of topics related to supporting volunteers for ministry, and one of the major topics will be appreciation. You better believe we’ll talk a lot more about what effective encouragement looks like.

For more information, contact the academic office at 800.235.4021 or e-mail academic@biblical.edu.